A Father's Fight V2
by Serenity Rayne
Summary: Rewritten Joint fic with Slytherin-Mafia. After the attack on his colony, Wufei thought he had lost everything with the death of his wife and son. Twelve years later when the DNA of one Harry Potter is match. Is his son really as dead as believed?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here is the revised version of our first story 'A Father's Fight'. We have made some changes but the original idea is still generally the same. Please read and review, and remember this is a joint fic between myself; Serenity Rayne; and Slytherin-Mafia. And we were the ones to originally write Fathers Fight so we are not plagiarizing.**

**Disclaimer: This is not ours…sadly. Everything belongs to their original owners.**

_Flashbacks_

Chapter 1

"I now pronounce you spouses for life. You may now kiss."

Clapping rang throughout the chapel as the pair on the alter kissed. They were a truly striking pair one could say they were opposites actually. The first was tall and light. Long pale blonde hair hanging free to his trim waist, pale aristocratic features set in a gentle smile as bright blue eyes looked down at the one before him, and his strong form clad in a white suit as he leaned down to kiss his new spouse. The other short and dark. Deep black hair hung freely tips just brushing the slim shoulders gently, naturally tanned features gentled slightly, deep black eyes looking up at the one who had persued him for so long as his lean but strong form clad in a sleek black suit leaned up to accept the kiss.

They were opposites in almost every way, their friends would say. One fiery, hot tempered and passionate. The other calm, even tempered and relentless; as seen by the nearly six years he had chased the other. But despite all that they seem balanced. And if that wasn't enough for those they called family to bless the union of the once enemies than the pure and simple fact that they understood and loved each other enough to ignore those differences was enough for them.

…Well…most of them. But then again, they protected their own so the threats were nothing to worry about.

Zechs Merquise and his new husband Wufei Chang parted slowly to the cheers and wolf-whistles of their loved ones. Smiling down at the silently embarrassed but obviously pleased face of the twenty-two year old Chinese former Gundam Pilot the former OZ Lieutenant pulled back slightly to look around the room.

Though they were both rather important; and famous/infamous, depending on who you asked; they had wanted a more private wedding. And so their friends had come through for them. There to witness their marriage were only the people they held closest.

Lady Anne Une had definitely been a huge help in keeping away the press and politicians both. As had Quatre Winner and the scowling mass of muscle he called a bodyguard. Heero Yuy was one intimidating bastard, and the press knew that well. Then again the threat of Shinigami and his silent partner didn't help matters much.

Catching the stern but still pleased blue eyes, darker than his own, within the group of people waiting to congratulate them Zechs nodded solemnly as he began to lead his partner down. He read exactly what the former Perfect Soldier wanted to say to him. And glancing down at his side where his dark haired dragon was trying to fend off the enthusiastic hugs from both the mothering Quatre and the excited Duo he knew he would do his damndest to make sure that gentle smile stayed on his dragons face for as long as possible.

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"Do you mind if we take a side trip?"

The softly spoken question sounded almost hesitant, even to his own ears but for once Wufei couldn't find it in him to care about appearances. Glancing over at his new husband, still clad in his pristine white suit Wufei watched as the surprise passed over that beautiful face before confusion settled in.

Zechs glanced over at his petite husband, studying the rather closed off features for a moment before turning his attention back to the road before him. They had just left the chapel; leaving to their week long honeymoon to the beautiful mountains of Sanq, and Zechs was quite looking forwarded to spending the time with his long time interest now husband. But something was obviously bothering the smaller male, he could see those deep black eyes watching him through the still loose fall of midnight hair but the other seemed to refuse to look at him.

"Where to?"

Wufei took a breath, trying not to fiddle nervously with the hem of his suit jacket. This was necessary; he reminded himself. After so many years of trying to keep this man at a distance; despite the others obvious interest as well as his own; it was time he came clean about everything. Time he bared the wounds that had sat open and still bleeding on his soul and heart for so long.

"The Lan Fan Memorial Gardens."

Zechs blinked for a moment but said nothing to allude to his confusion, catching onto the obvious nervousness of his partner.

"Alright."

He knew where the gardens the former Altron pilot was talking about were, though it had been years since he had been to see the lush oriental gardens located directly on the boarder of the Sanq Kingdom. He wasn't sure what was going on; what was making one of the Preventers best lawyers hesitate when normally the hot tempered young man was so sure of himself; but he knew he would do anything he was asked in order to help his dragon. And so he pulled off the main road onto the dirt path that he knew would lead around to one of the entrances to the secluded garden.

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Wufei breathed deeply as he walked slightly in front of his husband through the winding paths that made up of the beautiful oriental styled gardens. It had been during the first war that he had found this place as he had camped out between missions. He had come back here often after that. This place was; comforting in a way; it reminded him or…him after all.

Sakura trees swayed gently in the evening breeze as Wufei looked around slowly, reaching up a small naturally tanned hand he pushed his still loose hair behind an ear, idly wishing for a hair band. Stopping by the river that ran through the middle of the beautiful garden Wufei glanced back over her shoulder. Meeting clear blue eyes Wufei could see the confusion there and, with only a moment's hesitation he held out his hand.

Zechs watched the other for a moment before taking the small hand in his own large one. As he slowly stepped towards the younger man Zechs took a moment to observe the changes the last six year had brought. Where he had been nearly done growing by the time they had first met, only adding a couple of inches in height to reach a full 6 feet and had fairly sure of who and what he was, Wufei hadn't even been close.

Since the age of sixteen the little Asian hadn't grown much, reaching a final height of 5 feet 6 inches. His hair had grown only slightly, but it was his character that Zechs felt had grown the most. During the first war Zechs knew the Solitary Dragon had been one to primarily work alone and had been obsessed with Justice. During the second he was confused; lost on what he should do, what he should be, now that the purpose as he was taught to believe was gone. But since then, he had found a purpose that no longer put him in the line of fire more often than not.

He chose to pursue Justice in a different way. Sure he sometimes ended up in the field when the case became too much for the normal Preventer Agents to handle, but more often than not he was using the education Quatre had insisted on funding to put those that he and other Preventers had caught behind bars. He was calmer and seemed almost; freer in a way. But now, standing there as he was, there seemed to be a weight pushing down on him. And old and very heavy one that the blonde could somehow tell had been there a long time.

Saying nothing Zechs came up to stand beside his lover and husband, knowing instinctually that the other wouldn't want more contact then what he himself had offered. Now all he could do was wait.

Wufei was grateful for the silence and the small touch as he turned back to look out over the water. He wasn't sure if he could take anymore than that. This burden was too large and too old. The grief had gone too long unshared. And the pain, the anguish and the suffering; were still to fresh.

"I found this place during the first war, on a break between missions."

Zechs glanced down at the top of the others head.

"It was comforting to me; reminding me of the home and…the people who I had left behind. But most especially of the ones I couldn't save."

Zechs brow furrowed but he said nothing, and for that Wufei was grateful.

"As you already know I was married once. An arranged marriage when I was fourteen years old. You also know that my wife; Meiran Chang; died not long before the war began, and that I took her place as Gundam Pilot."

Wufei took a breath, surveying the scenery around him in a bid for strength.

"What you didn't know…was that I had a child from that marriage."

Shock coursed through the former Lightning Count of OZ. This…was not what he had been expecting. Not at all. He knew a good deal about his husbands past, both the good and the bad. But while he had known that there were still things they had yet to share with each other, he also had thought that the larger things were out of the way.

Wufei turned to look at his husband as he began to lead the taller male through the garden and the pain in those obsidian eyes nearly caused the blonde to stumble.

"He was my pride and joy. I loved him more than anything in this world. At times it seemed that he was my only reason to live."

Wufei turned back to face front.

"Such a happy baby. Always smiling and laughing; he found joy in everything, despite the fact that his mother was too busy with her martial arts and the war; her justice, to spend any time with him. He didn't care, and neither did I really."

Wufei's jaw clenched and his hand tightened around the larger one still held firmly in his own.

"My clan had insisted on an heir. An heir for both the Dragon clan, and the Phoenix clan. It was the one and only time we were ever together in such a way and I'm sure we both hated nearly every minute of it. And while I regret it now; back then I didn't care. My son was my one and only concern and love, everything else was put on hold or blown completely from my mind."

Zechs squeezed the hand in his tighter.

"What happened Wufei."

Wufei's breath hitched and he stopped, body stiffening.

"…He was killed."

_Fire, burning as people screamed in pain and fear. Though the sounds of battle were finally fading there was still chaos to be found as the damage from the recent battle reached all the way to the major residential areas._

_Onyx eyes were desperate, already clouded slightly by pain and grief as he raced through the crowds moving in the opposite direction as he. His wife was dead; and though they hadn't gotten along he would have never wanted this. But he hadn't stayed in that field of flowers with her cooling body long as some of her last words rang through his head._

"_I didn't do right in my duty as your wife and heir to my clan but please…Please protect and love our son as I was never able!"_

_His son, his beautiful four month old baby boy; with his gorgeous and rare emerald eyes always sparkling with happiness and wonder from beneath his mess of deep black hair; a happy baby smile always on his face; was somewhere in what he could now see was his burning home._

_But that never stopped him as he raced through the burning door, searching desperately. There was his father, buried beneath piles of burning wood; already dead. Running through to the hall he found his mother lying dead beneath a collapsed wall. And beyond that…_

_Flames…nothing but flames and collapsed ceiling. A scream tore through his throat at the sight of his baby's nursery; or what was left of it. _

_He had no idea how long he stood there screaming before he felt arms wrap around him and drag him from that burning wreck. But he knew in that time; everything had changed._

Zechs caught the smaller pilot as he collapsed in on himself, years of repressed grief finally seeing some light as someone else was let in on the burden he had held by himself for so many years. Burying his face into the soft midnight locks Zechs cradled his lover.

"What was his name?"

Wufei choked as he clung tighter to his lovers once pristine white suit.

"Hisashi; Hisashi Chang."

And looking up at where they had stopped Zechs' sad and understanding eyes landed on the young cherry blossom tree; planted by loving hands. But it was what sat at the base of the still young tree that caused the final flood of understanding to move through him. For at the base of that tree was a small plaque, slightly crude but made by young and obviously loving hands and weathered by the elements. And the words he had to read, for they said everything a young father who had lost so much in so little time could ever want; as it had been intended.

"May this tree grow as you should have; tended by loving hands. Rest in Peace Beloved Son, Beloved Flame. Hisashi Chang."

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**A/N: Well we hope everyone enjoyed this chapter of the new rewritten version of A Fathers Fight! Please read and review and we will try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. We are doing our best to organize it so that we don't lose our train of thought. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well here is the next chapter! We are trying our hardest with this story. And we really appreciate the great reviews and hope that everyone likes this chapter as well.**

**Disclaimer: None of this is ours…sadly.**

Chapter 2

Ron rubbed the piece of paper between his fingers as he crept out of the Public Library, looking oddly at the...things sitting on the desks to his left. He'd learned how to use them, compuders he thought they were called, to do the research to help Harry, but he was still scared of them, enough that he edged his way around the tables to the lobby, and the bank of fellytones in front of the library. There were a few people standing at them, talking in low voices, as Ron slipped into his own booth, sliding the glass door as closed as he could.

The youngest Weasley male picked up the receiver with shaking hands, beginning to dial the nubmer that was almost too creased to read, thankful that his brothers had taught him how to use a phone, if nothing else. At least, the concept of the phone. Ron still wasn't sure how the muggles on the other end were supposed to hear him, it wasn't like a Floo connection, where you could see the other person. Ron just hoped that he could get it to work.

There were three rings, before a female voice came over the line.

'Thank you for calling the National Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children, this is Maria speaking, how can I help you?' She was uppercrust, her accent bringing to mind unpleasant reminders of Draco Bloody Malfoy, and Ron had to hold back his scowl.

He really hated that spoiled brat.

'Hello?" She sounded impatient, and Ron snapped back to the matter at hand. This was all about Harry, not that little blond...ferret.

'HELLO! Yes, Hello! I WANT TO REPORT...' ron yelled into the phone, trying to get his point across, unaware that he was causing the worker on the other side to hold the phone away from her ear, until she could only hang up, not being able to get a word in edgewise through his yelling. Ron put the phone down, with a glare.

Silly muggles, he knew that these...fellytones wouldn't work.

Now how was he supposed to help Harry?

Jessica Anderson had seen a lot during her tenure at the NSPCC, had dealt with a lot of distresed children and just as distressed adults, and she didn't regret a minute of it.

But this call? This call took the cake. She was going off her shift when the hotline rang, the other workers already busy with a call, and she placed her bag down before reaching over to answer it. Any other worker would have been upset, and disgruntled, about having to be late for plans, but Jessica didn't care.

Her work here was way more important that meeting Mitchell for dinner. She answered the phone with the customery greeting, reaching for a pen and paper with her spare hand, ready to take down notes.

There was silence, for a few precious seconds, and she frowned before repeating her question.

"hello?"

Jessica immediately pulled the phone away from her ear, grinning wryly as her coworkers turned around to stare at her, pulling attention away from thier own calls, the voice coming from the phone loud and ear catching.

"HELLO! HELLO!" The voice began rattling off names of people, repeating the name Harry Potter several times, ignoring any and all attempts that jessica made at asking questions. She could only jot notes down, the name ringing a bell in her head, but she couldn't remember where, before finally hanging up, groaning.

Some people were just never taught phone etiquette. Tapping her notes together to put them in order, Jessica picked up her purse and headed towards the bosses office, dropping off the pile of paper on the man's desk before heading out.

It was out of her hands, and she put the ordeal out of her mind, completely unaware of the uproar her simple handwritten notes caused.

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He did this because he felt in some way he was making up for the past. A past before the war had become…his life. Before everything as he had known it, fell apart. He did this for all those who had seen the horrors war and life brought and wanted nothing more than to see it end. For the peace they had attained. But most of all…he did it for the memory of his son.

Peace wasn't just for the adults…it was for the children too. For it was the children that would shape their future as he and the other pilots had once shaped the present. And while his happy baby boy may not have had that chance…many other children did. …If only someone noticed them; helped them.

Onyx eyes shifted away from his computer screen over to the corner of his desk. There a photo sat, his sons cheerful face smiled back at him, his emerald eyes alight with laughter. Wufei smiled slightly, reaching out a hand to trace the chubby baby face gently. Zechs, his husband of four years, had spent quite a bit of time; secretly of course; trying to find the old photo that Wufei thought had been destroyed along with his colony. It had been a gift for their second anniversary…the first…

A low sounding alarm from his computer brought Wufei's attention away from the photo. Onyx eyes watched as the data skimmed over the screen, his brow furrowing more and more as time went on. What the…

Wufei continued to watch, growing more agitated as more and more information scrolled by.

"Dragon?"

Wufei looked up, onyx eyes alight in anger to lock with the confused and concerned blue ones of his husband.

Zechs' brow furrowed as he moved to stand behind his seated dragon.

"Everything alright?"

Wufei hesitated a moment before looking up into his lovers eyes.

"I need you to look into something for me."

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He only saw color in his dreams, now, and he soaked up every bit that he could find. He knew, with the despair that only the truely damned felt, that it wouldn't always be this way. He would, eventually, lose even that small bit of color as his brain forgot what they were like, his dead eyes useless for recalling the memory.

But until then, he would hold onto those brief flashes as much as he could. He especially liked when he dreamed in Green, and that was what he was dreaming of, lying under a green tree, just watching the sky, when his life took another right turn.

'Up! Get up!' The day started off the same as all the ones before it, with Aunt Petunia screeching as she rapped on the door, dislodging dust and spider webs from the ceiling of his cupboard, jolting him awake. He sat up, absently straightening the blindfold around his useless eyes, before reaching a hand out and feeling around for the thick peice of wood one of the neighboorhood adults had been nice enough to find him when they found out about the accident. It was rough, and little more than a broken branch, but it was better than nothing. Harry could still remember the nightmare days, right after he'd come home from Hogwarts and no longer had Ron to help him find his way around. He'd tripped down the stairs, falling all the way to the bottom, four times before he learned to grab onto the rail and slowly feel his way down them.

If Dudley didn't send him freefalling, for the simple pleasure of watching his smaller cousin in pain.

"Get Up Now!' Harry moved his morning routine along as his aunt's voice penetrated his haven once again, knowing that even her newfound dislike for hitting a 'cripple' wouldn't save him if she had to call for him to start breakfast again.

The small, dark haired boy tightened his grip on his makeshift cane, and pushed his door open slowly, sticking the cane out and feeling for any resistance. He felt none, and felt brave enough to step out, closing the door softly behind him and taking a few steps forward, towards where he knew the kitchen was. He thought he was going to make it that morning, having not heard anything from aound him, but that idea died a swift death as he felt something whistling through the air moments before a large, beefy hand wrapped around his cane and with a yank, pulled it from his grasp, simultaneously sending Harry foward towards the floor.

Harry clenched his eyes shut and threw his arms out, bracing himself as much as possible for the impact that he knew was coming. He hit with a bone jarring thud, but didn't roll over, just stayed face down on the floor until he felt the large bulk of his uncle pass him by, throwing the cane down just within reach. Harry knew that his uncle would take sick glee in snapping the only thing that helped his nephew get around, it was the kind of man he was, but the helpful neighbor was keeping a close eye on the boy, and Vernon wasn't quite brave enough to do anything serious while he was under such close scrutiny.

'At least, not yet he's not' Harry thought darkly to himself, feeling for his cane and boosting himself to his feet. This was a daily, morning occurance, and he was becoming sadly accostomed to it. He made his slow way into the kitchen, and over to the sink, a trip that he knew by heart, and put his hand out to feel around for the butter and knife. It was close to the edge, the only concession the Dursleys would ever make to his new condition, sitting directly next to the bread. Harry hadn't been forced to use the stove since he got back, yet, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to sometime soon. And he wasn't looking forward to that at all.

'Boy!' Petunia's sharp voice came from behind him, and he barely flinched as he felt the air pressure of her moving up behind him. He could smell the residue of bacon and dough on her body, and knew that she had already done the mornings cooking. The eleven year old winced, knowing that cooking always put his aunt in a bad mood.

'yes aunt petunia?' he didn't try to turn and face her as he once would have, just kept his head down and kept sliding his knife across the toast, trying to keep his strokes as even as possible. He knew that forcing her to look at his deformed eyes would do nothing but make her angry, and gain himself a whole lot of chores along with her anger.

'when you finish the bread, get started on the vacuuming. Everything has been moved to the edges of the room, so don't you DARE scratch my furniture with that...stick.' she sniffed and moved away from him again, the click-clacking of her customary heels fading from his hearing as she moved up the stairs to wake Dudley.

Harry just sighed and hoped things would get better before the school year started back, he could only imagine the insults that Malfoy would come up with after a whole two months to think of ways to embarrass his now blind foe.

Ding dong

The doorbell interrupted Harry's thoughts, and he carefully put the knife down, searching gingerly along the sink to find a dish towel to wipe his hands before turning and heading towards the door. Blind or not, Harry had responsibilities, and answering the door was one of them. He moved slowly, carefully prodding the space in front of him with his stick before it tapped gently against the door, and he placed it to the side, reaching up to pull off the blindfold before he reached out and pulled the door open, plastering a smile on his face and forcing his eyes towards where an adults face would be.

'can I help you?'

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**A/N: So please read and review as we continue to work on the next chapters!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Serenity here. Please ****LISTEN UP!**

**First off let me say that we really do love our reviewers. And now let me point out that we're not trying to be rude or mean but we are a bit upset at some of the reviews we received for the last chapter. That isn't saying we don't respect people's opinions because we do. It is when people bash us without true reason that we become upset and discouraged, which is why it took so long for this chapter to be put out. Now we realize that the last chapter was formatted a little oddly and we understand that and will watch for this in the future.**

**Someone also pointed out that we repeated dialogue and wrote out sounds. That was intentional! What we do we do for emphasis!**

**Also people this is only the second chapter! You can't expect to have all the answers so soon! That would ruin everything. Answers will be coming for all questions in future chapters. **

**But now that I am slightly done ranting I will answer some questions. For starters this is the summer after first year so Harry won't be twelve until the end of July. Please don't bash us without reason. Please be patient!**

**Thanks, Serenity Rayne and Slytherin-Mafia**

**P.S. A big thank you 'WalkingFingers' You asked your questions in a polite manner and we greatly appreciate this. Also, all will be explained. Again thank you.**

**Now Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

_It was a dream, he definitely knew that. This place had been destroyed years before. All those he loved and cared for along with it. But still he couldn't help but indulge himself. No matter how much he knew it would hurt him in the long run he couldn't help himself. This was the only way he felt he could remember those he lost._

_But as Wufei looked around the room he couldn't help but smile. This was one of his most treasured memories. One of the things he actually looked forward to seeing. It was something he knew he would remember and enjoy for as long as he lived; no matter what._

"_Wufei?"_

_Wufei looked to his right and smiled sadly as he saw himself. His fourteen year old self sat tensely on a bench, smaller form hunched just slightly and book clenched tightly in small hands. The teen looked up glancing over to a woman who Wufei instantly recognized as his mother. The sweet woman was sat just across from her teenage son, tenderly watching her tense child from where she sat neatly opposite him._

"_Everything will be fine Wufei."_

_The teen's eyes glared down at his book once more, grip tightening even more._

"_You don't know that Mother. Besides what are we supposed to do anyways?"_

"_Take responsibility that's what?"_

_The deep voice struck a chord with Wufei and caught the teen's immediate attention. His father moved forward to stand beside his mother. He was a rather big man; a prominent martial artist with a strong and powerful build. His dark hair was pulled back tightly into the horse tail Wufei would eventually wear and his onyx eyes were stern but still caring as he looked upon his family. _

_Looking at his family now Wufei could see that he rather obviously took after his mother in the term of looks and build. As well in interest really. Wise onyx eyes glanced over the family. Wufei's father had been a very prominent martial artist who worked teaching others the art that his clan had lived by, while his mother had been a scholar, teaching young minds everything she could with loving devotion._

_Despite his father's slight disappointment that his son refused to take over for him at his dojo, Wufei adamantly remembered both parents supporting his academic pursuits…though he was sure they had never expected his life to turn out the way it had. For him to turn out the way he had._

_The teen sighed explosively._

"_But a child Father? What do either of us know about children, let alone raising them?"_

_Chang Mee laughed lightly, musically as she watched her son fondly._

"_Do you really think we would leave you all on your own my son?"_

_The teen relaxed only minutely at the reassurance that he wouldn't be alone in this ordeal._

"_So the three of us get to raise the child."_

_Mee's brow furrowed and she looked up at her husband in concern._

"_What do you mean dear? Meiran…"_

"_Thinks only of herself and her martial arts. The self-proclaimed Nataku can't be burdened by a child."_

_Wufei cringed at the bitterness in his younger self's tone. He remembered this, the feeling that he was inadequate in some way. Alone in a marriage he had been forced into with a girl who he didn't even like and who didn't respect or even really see him. She had never taken the time._

_Chang Li frowned._

"_If she wishes not to disgrace herself she will be a part of yours and this child's life."_

_Yet despite the tone that reassured the teen that his father would see to that he still slumped._

_And Wufei knew just as surely as the teen did that nothing would change. That despite everything that was about to change Meiran would not._

"_Chang Wufei?"_

_The teen's head shot up and he stood quickly, his book dropping to the ground._

"_Yes?"_

_The woman smiled and held out a bundle that had Wufei wanting to cry, his heart nearly breaking all over again._

"_Congratulations. You have a healthy baby boy."_

_The teen took the bundle carefully in his arms, no longer even aware of his surroundings, his parents, anything._

_And Wufei knew why. He knew exactly what that bookish teen was seeing that made everything else nonexistent. And as Wufei moved so that he was standing behind the teen looking over the others shoulder he saw what he knew was one of the two loves of his life. His little baby boy with his perfect little hands and perfect little feet, his red chubby baby cheeks, shock of black hair…and intense emerald eyes._

"_Hisashi. His name will be Chang Hisashi."_

"Wufei…Dragon come on wake up."

_Wufei glanced up, recognizing the voice but…if he left he would never… Glancing back down at the child wrapped so protectively in his young fathers arms Wufei smiled sadly. And moving carefully around the teen, placed a gentle kiss on the infant's forehead._

"_I have and always will love you, my little one."_

_And as the scene began to fade, the last thing he saw before the clear blue eyes of his husband filled his vision were the smiling faces of his family and happy eyes of his son. _

"Dragon?"

Wufei blinked slowly looking up into the face of the man he loved, seeing the concern there as work roughened hands carefully brushed his cheeks, wiping away the tears Wufei didn't care to stop.

Zechs watched his dragon, concerned. He had been only slightly concerned when his husband hadn't woken at his usual hour but had put it off as over work. Ever since the Dursley case had come across his desk the Chinese man had been working almost nonstop. But when he had come out of the shower and had seen the tears silently running down those bronzed cheeks he had known something was wrong.

Locking eyes with sad but happy onyx Zechs nearly sighed.

"Hisashi?"

Wufei nodded and Zechs sighed sadly as he pulled the other onto his lap, cradling the smaller man slightly. This wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time Wufei had had a dream about his deceased son. And just like always Zechs was there to listen should he wish to talk.

"It was his birth. The first time I ever saw or held him."

Zechs tightened his grip as he leaned his head against the silky hair.

"My parents were there with me. Both trying to reassure me that everything would be alright."

Wufei sobbed a little, turning his head so that he faced the blonde's neck.

"But it wasn't now they're all dead. They didn't even get…"

Zechs cradled his Dragon as he cried as he always did after a dream like this one. The soft sounds nearly breaking his heart as he clutched the other to his chest. But what hurt the former OZ soldier the most was that he knew there was nothing he could do to make this any better. There was nothing that could ever replace a child in a parents' heart. And Zechs had never even thought to try. But still it hurt; that he couldn't take the pain away.

"I love you."

Zechs looked down into solemn and slightly red onyx eyes.

"I'm sorry if I don't say or show it enough."

Zechs smiled softly and leaned down to take the smaller males lips in a soft kiss. Pulling back Zechs locked eyes with his husband of four years.

"I love you too. And you show it plenty just as I hope I do as well."

Wufei blushed at his blonde's heated look. Even after all their time together; ten years total now; Wufei still couldn't help but be embarrassed.

Zechs chuckled at the blush, always amused by the younger's embarrassment.

"As for saying it; you wouldn't be you if you gushed it every time you saw me."

The black haired man winced at the choice of words and glared as his husband laughed. But in the end he got the point. He was reserved and serious by nature and he wasn't really one to express his emotion easily and openly. He wasn't like Quatre or Relena. He was more like Duo; and didn't that pain him to admit. Where Duo would become overly happy and excited he would become irritated and defensive. Though he had gotten a bit better; presenting cases in court and being forced to go to his sister-in-laws parties had seen to that.

"I suppose you're right."

Zechs smirked and dove in for another quick kiss before standing and reaching for his gun holster.

"Of course I'm right. Now what are you planning to do on your day off?"

Wufei scowled at the reminder and got up from the bed, the dream fading to the back of his mind.

"Forced day off."

Zechs smirked over his shoulder.

"Same thing dragon. And I'm sure Sally wouldn't have insisted on you taking at least a three day weekend if you hadn't been running on nothing but coffee since this case came across your desk."

Wufei glared at his entirely too smug husband.

"Why do I have a feeling you had something to do with this?"

Zechs smiled charmingly and came forward to take the other in a deep kiss; easily slipping his tongue inside once the other opened his mouth to protest. Pulling back when air once more became an issue Zechs smirked at the dazed look on his proud dragons face.

"Even if I did you will be able to come back into work tomorrow. This is your last day 'off'. Try and enjoy it a little hmm? I'll be working the case today."

Wufei sighed, giving in after that last assurance.

"Fine. But you notify me if anything goes wrong alright?"

The blonde wrapped his arms calmingly around the other, pulling him to rest against his body.

"Of course. Now what are you going to do today?"

Wufei hesitated.

"I'll be going to WEI. Heero and Quatre are on earth and have asked to see me."

Zechs raised a brow.

"Oh? Is something wrong?"

Wufei shrugged and pulled from his husbands embrace.

"Not that I am aware of. And Quatre seemed fine when he called."

Zechs nodded and moved forward swiftly, pulling his husband into one last quick kiss. Pulling back he rested his forehead against the Chinese mans.

"Alright. I'll be off then. Try to relax today alright? If something happens I'll let you know."

Wufei watched silently as his husband left, standing for a moment in silence before turning to get ready. Resolutely pushing the dream; memory; to the far reaches of his mind. His friends and former comrades were damned perceptive, no reason to make the little blonde worry.

Shrugging on his coat a bit later the former Gundam pilot hesitated briefly before grabbing one of his guns and with one last glance around the entrance hall of their Sanq Kingdom home, left.

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"…Repeat that please?"

Quatre Raberba Winner blushed.

"You heard me Wufei."

Wufei blinked, trying to shake off the shock.

"Yeah but…have you told the others about this?"

The little blonde CEO of WEI blushed brighter, eyes going slightly distant in remembrance. But it wasn't the blonde who answered.

"Duo wanted us to video tape your reaction for him."

Wufei's onyx eyes cleared and snapped over at the amused voice of Heero Yuy, their former leader and the current head of security for WEI. The Japanese man smirked, deep blue eyes amused from where he stood just behind the blonde.

"You wouldn't."

Heero just smirked, unaffected by the dark glare being directed at him at him.

"Too late. But it could have been worse."

Wufei continued to glare at the taller male, studiously ignoring the muffled snickering from their blonde strategist.

"How's that?"

Heero grinned now, reaching down to place his hand on the bent blonde head before him.

"Trowa passed out as soon we told him."

Wufei choked, just as Quatre finally broke into fits of laughter.

"Trowa?"

Heero nodded, amusement obvious.

"Yes."

Wufei smirked.

"So you told them that you two were dating and steady Trowa fainted?"

Heero nodded.

"…Duo's never going to let him live that down is he?"

Quatre shook his head, still chuckling.

"Not at all."

Wufei smirked as he leaned back in his chair.

"What did Rashid say?"

Heero fidgeted and Quatre blushed deeply once again.

"Said it was about time."

He couldn't help it; he threw his head back and laughed. That had definitely not been what he was expecting, though he could definitely see where the older Arab had been coming from now that he thought about it. He could even remember at his wedding the pair had come together and had spent most of the night with each other. …Had they really been dancing around each other for so long?

"I can definitely agree with him. Congratulations though."

Quatre smiled gratefully.

"Thank you Wufei!"

Wufei nodded to the pair and took a sip of his forgotten tea. Despite how long it had taken this pair to come together Wufei knew they would be fine.

"Wufei?"

Wufei looked up, confused, to meet the blonde's concerned teal gaze.

"Is everything alright? Would you like to talk about anything?"

Wufei barely registered Heero's stiffening posture as he silently cursed himself for not burying his dream and the emotions it evoked better before coming to meet the self-sacrificing empath. He had known that the other would be able to sense the emotions but had thought he had put it behind him enough where it wouldn't be as noticeable.

"I just…"

The ringing of his phone nearly made Wufei collapse with relief as he fumbled briefly in his pocket. He knew that even if he hadn't wanted to answer these two wouldn't have given up so easily. Literally saved by the bell it seems.

"Chang here."

Wufei's face instantly became serious, putting both of his friends on edge immediately.

"Explain."

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**A/N: Well there ya go! Sorry about the rant up top but it had to be said. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the little trip down memory lane for Wufei…I kinda cried as I was writing it. Anyways! Read and review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So here it is! Might have taken a bit but we are doing our best with RL and ever evolving muse's. We are trying our very best so please be kind. No flames please…they really don't help us write and they are generally used for camp fires when we go out with our favorite G-boys. Again enjoy!

Disclaimer: None of this is our.

Chapter 4

It was early on a Tuesday morning as the black sedan, the Preventer's logo emblazoned on the side, pulled up outside number Four Privet Drive, bringing the attention of all the neighbors, various housewives up and down the block peeking through their curtains to eye the visitor. The passenger side door opened quickly, a tall, well built blond stepping out in full uniform, straightening up quickly and turning towards the car, giving the driver a nod to stay and wait for him.

If the knowledge they had was correct and he was uncomfortably sure that it was, he would not be in the residence long, either way the situation turned out. He lifted a slim, black cell phone to his ear as he stepped towards the neat house, his fingers hitting the key without him having to look at it. It was obviously a well known number, and the conversation only took a few precious seconds to complete, the watching neighbors grousing to themselves that they couldn't hear what was going on.

It was a sport on the well tended block to bet and wax poetical on what exactly would bring the Dursleys down. They residents of number four, despite what they may think, were without a doubt the most hated family in the area, and there would be several parties celebrating their demise the day it finally happened.

"Yes, I just arrived. I have the files, and will inform you of the results." He looked up, a dark look crossing over his face for a few seconds that didn't match his smooth voice, before he turned back to the conversation, his tone darker and more deadly than it had been, hinting at a darker instinct hiding underneath it all. Something, some instinct honed in years of war, told him that things were not going to end in a happy way for this family.

And he had learned, through hard trial and error, not to ignore any of his gut feelings.

"Dragon, something about this house feels very..very wrong, and I haven't even stepped foot in it yet. Prep a team for extraction, I want them standing by as soon as possible." there was a worried noise from the other side of the phone, a strong voice talking quickly, the blond nodding even though he knew his conversation partner couldn't see him. The movement was soothing, physical movement, letting him use wound up energy in the only way that he could.

He stepped towards the door as he finished the conversation, knowing that what he really wanted would be taken care of without him having to speak it aloud and possibly alert the members of the house that something out of the ordinary was going on, before he had the chance to do what he'd come for. It was too early in the morning for him to have to chase someone across a suburban hell. All those fences would do his knees in, he wasn't as young as he used to be.

Zechs climbed the two steps towards the door, putting his phone in his pocket and adjusting his uniform, smoothing out the bumps. His gun was hidden under the jacket, but he had personally tested the draw of the weapon when he had it tailored to his body, and knew that he could draw it in less than three seconds if he had to.

He hoped that he didn't have to during this interview, if only for the sake of the children in the house. He didn't want to terrorize the boy anymore than he probably already had been. Seeing a gun drawn, at any age, when you weren't prepared to deal with it, was a traumatizing experience. He could still remember the first time he saw a drawn gun, and he wouldn't wish that memory on his worst enemy.

If there were any left. He wasn't in the habit of leaving enemies alive for long. The pilots were the only ones who lasted, and he supposed he couldn't particularly call them enemies any longer, considering he'd married one.

It took a second knock to get the door to open, and Zechs felt the very beginnings of frustration begin to gnaw at him. He knew that someone had to have seen him, it wasn't like his transportation, with the big garish image designed by the 'best' artists in the ESUN slapped right on the side of the car, was easy to look over. He used the sarcastic quote marks even in his mind.

That emblem, was just plain ugly.

"Can I help you?" The voice was small, childish, and more timid than a child had the right to be. Zechs blinked and looked down, his eyes widening and then narrowing into slits as they landed on the form that stood before him.

His first instinct, that he savagely strangled in an attempt to at least seem like he was following Preventer policy, was to pull his gun and show the Dursley's exactly what Terrorist justice was all about.

But he didn't act on it. Une would tear of his man bits with a melon baller if he didn't at least try to act like he was a true Preventer. When that woman turned to peace, she hadn't done it by halves. Zechs still remembered when she had been the barely tamed force of nature fighting for Treize's attention, and it was not a pleasant recollection.

The boy looked dirty, light smudges up and down his arms that most would take as dirt from roughhousing or a boy's tendency to not wash as thoroughly as they could, but Zechs knew better. He knew bruises when he saw them.

The shirt slipped down the small, overly small, boy's shoulder, the bones of the arm too easily distinguished through the pale, almost translucent, flesh.

But it was the eyes, the bright green, but obviously unseeing eyes, that told the true story, and Zechs clenched a fist, the only release of his anger that he would allow himself, before he forced a smile into his voice, if not on his face.

He wasn't going to scare this child more than he probably already had. It might not be noticeable to everyone, but he wasn't everyone, not by a long shot, and the trials of this child stood out to him as if they were painted on a billboard.

"Hello. Are Mr. and Mrs. Dursley home?" he fought for professionalism, keeping his voice as calm and even as it could be, and studied the child, willing him to move and get the adults so just punishment could be dealt out.

As Wufei would say, there was no Justice more deserved than that delivered on child abusers.

The boy nodded slowly, his head tilting slightly to the side, before the answer came tumbling out. He had clearly been taught, conditioned, to answer an adult as quickly as possible, even adults he had never met. "Yes. Who can...I mean, May, I tell them is asking, sir?"

Zechs took a deep breath, the little boy's eyes looking off into the distance where he thought Zechs would be pained him for a reason he couldn't describe, and knelt down in front of the boy, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, to give him a point of reference to stare at him from. The child started, flinching back from the touch like it was a live wire, before he seemingly forced himself to relax. His eyes migrated to the area around his face, and Zechs could only sigh. Green eyes, with no pupils, it was a tragic sight that the ex-epyon pilot could have lived without.

And he wanted to know how this had happened to an eleven year old, and why it hadn't been reported to any health agency or hospital. But first things first, and he didn't try to stop the shark's smile that crossed his face.

"Yes you can, little one. Tell them that Agent Wind of the Preventer's would like to speak to them, immediately." He ruffled Harry's hair gently, sighing as Harry leaned into the touch, a small smile on his face, like he had never had such a gentle touch directed towards him. It was sad, and Zechs promised himself that he would make that up to the child no matter what he had to do.

The little boy nodded and ran quickly backwards from the door, dodging around the obstacles and things in his way with the ease of practice, the furniture moved back away from the center of the room, leaving a clear space for him to move. At least the family had made some kind of concession towards his handicap. But one good mark in a sheet of bad ones, it just wasn't going to be enough.

"A Preventer? Boy, did you invite him in?...of course you didn't, you're too slow to. Just left the poor man standing on the doorstep like a common criminal, I imagine." The woman's voice reached him from the direction of the kitchen, her British accent odd to his ears even after two years of being stationed at the Preventer's Headquarters in London. For someone who had grown up hearing a multitude of accents, hearing one predominantly took a lot to get used to.

There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Zechs didn't try to hold back the growl that ripped from his throat, only because there was no one around to hear him, reigning himself in with a large amount of effort.

Steps come up the hallway, a sharp staccato, and a middle aged housewife stepped into view, wiping her hands on a dishtowel that she lay on a side table with a look of disgust, before flashing him what passed for a saccharine smile, clearly well practiced. Harry was no where in sight, clearly shuffled out of view in an attempt to draw less attention.

Zechs wasn't having any of it, and fought to keep his disgust from showing through, pulling his badge out from his jacket pocket, yet again, and stepped smoothly over the threshold. Quiet was when he was at his most dangerous.

"Mrs. Petunia Dursley. My name is Zechs Marquise, Agent Wind, from the Preventers London Branch. I have a few questions for your husband and yourself." his voice is sharp, not all of the anger gone, and she blinks rapidly, her face coloring and just as rapidly paling.

She seemed nervous, and clearly had some idea of the reason that he was there. Zechs noted the way her eyes kept flitting to the cupboard door under the stairs, two large padlocks on the outside, and makes a mental note to get a court search order to look into it. With the attention she was paying it, and the way she was trying not to call attention to that, there was clearly something she didn't want him to see in it, and that made him curious.

"My Husband is...busy at the moment. Can this be done later?" breathed Petunia, her hands fluttering to her face to brush at stray hairs. She gave him another smile, and he just crossed his arm, putting his left hand very close to the butt of his gun. The woman's eyes widen, pale blue eyes going too big for such a thin face, and she looked over her shoulder quickly, before looking back at him, all pretense gone, her features covered in sharpness.

"We haven't done anything, and unless you have a warrant, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. My husband and I are very upstanding citizens, and I will not be spoken to like this." She seems very apprehensive that there is an official agent in her home, and keeps looking over her left shoulder, eying the shadows that are moving around in the kitchen. Zechs can hear mummers, low voices coming from the kitchen, and strains his ears but frowns when he can pick up nothing but non descriptive sounds.

In the words of a long dead, pre-colony Bard, "me thinks the lady doth protest too much'. He drug up every bit of training he had, and stared at her. From the way she gasped and took a half step back before steadying herself on a table in the hallway.

"Mrs. Dursley, I would prefer to have your cooperation in this matter. It can go along way for your husband and yourself to have assisted us, instead of having to be forced by various laws to comply, and in your position, I would not make things harder for yourself."

Large, thundering footsteps startled him from his stare down with the wife of the house, and he pulled his gun without a second thought, pointing it towards the noise and thumbing back the safety with an audible click.

The approaching figure froze, giving Zechs a minute to look him over, and nearly choke at what he saw.

Did no one outside of the ex military take care of themselves properly? At at least 300 hundred pounds, hardly any of it muscle, with a badly done comb over and a shiny face telling prominently of heart trouble to come, Vernon Dursley was a sight to see.

And made Zechs' trigger finger itchy, tightening down on the trigger to where the slightest move would send a bullet smashing through the man's skull and his brains onto the floral wallpaper behind him.

'Mummy! Why does he have a gun pointed at Dad?' Zechs took a deep breath, easing his finger off the trigger, sliding the safety back on with a scowl, before giving the child now clinging to his mother a look out of the corner of his eye.

If it was up to him, Dudley Dursley would never know how close his father came to dying by head wound. Zechs had been so focused on Vernon and his rage, that he hadn't even heard the boy come stomping down the stairs, until the battle rage faded.

'Wha...what is the meaning of this?" croaked Vernon Dursley, wiping his forehead and staring at Zechs like he was a predator looking for lunch, edging towards his family. "You can't just burst into our home and threaten us like this." Zechs sighed and let his hand drop, the gun held loosely in his hand and pointing towards the ground, closing his eyes and trying to get a hold of himself.

He had no proof, he couldn't just go off the handle like this. This is why they had fought the war, him on both sides, so that people weren't allowed to abuse power on innocent civilians.

"Mr. Dursley, while I apologize for my weapon, the fact of the matter remains that you and your wife are under investigation for..." Zechs felt the interview slipping away from him quicker than his temper, as his accusations seemed to give the man a second wind, causing him to swell up and his face too redden.

"Now you see here! I don't care what agency you come from! My Wife and I are fine, upstanding citizens, and have done nothing to deserve being investigated. We have complied with every law and act." The man puffed himself up like a puffer fish, pointing a finger in Zechs direction, not daring to come closer, and Zechs snapped, long forgotten royal manners kicking in and demanding retribution.

The was a member of the Preventers, and the ESUN senate, not some upstart pre-Oz beat cop!

"Mr Dursley!" His voice thundered through the room, every occupant freezing as he descended on them like an avenging angel. "My badge, and my Commanding officer, say that you are anything but a law abiding citizen. I know things about you that would make your hair curl if it wasn't falling out." His mouth kept going, and looking back he would blame it on over exposure to the DeathScythe pilot, and the Dursleys just looked at him with wide eyes, before their eyes drifted over his shoulder, and they stepped back.

"I thought you may need this." A tan hand came into view, holding a thin blue piece of folded paper, and Zechs turned, a smile crossing his face for the first time that day.

How his Dragon knew when he was needed the most, Zechs had always wanted to know.

"Minerva, I know you think you know what's best for the boy, but trust me. I have seen his resilience, he will bounce back, as the Muggle's say, from this with no issues. Pomfrey herself said all he needed was rest and time for his magic to recuperate and heal the injury." Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, smiled cheerily at his Deputy, not really seeing where she was having difficulty with his position. Dumbledore always had what was best for the boy at the forefront of his mind, and Minerva should know that without having to think about it.

The Scot just gave a growl of frustration and sent the papers with her proposal zooming back across the table with a flick of her wand, hair flying from her orderly bun and giving her the look of nothing less than an angry lioness, protecting her cubs. He would think, later, that that was preciously what she was.

"Albus Dumbledore you old codger! You saw the boy at End of Term! He could barely take two steps without clinging to Weasley's arm, no matter what they made the rest of the students believe." Minerva growled, "We must make allowances! Or you may as well tell him that his education at Hogwarts canna' continue." Her accent became thicker and stronger the more agitated she became, and only his decades of being her friend allowed him to understand her through the brogue. "The Board of Governors will have no choice but to allow it, once you are behind it. And you better be behind it, Albus, or so help me Merlin you will regret it."

Sparks crackled in the air, dancing across the furniture in an impressive display, reminding Albus that Minerva had, and always would be, one of the few who could challenge him in magical might.

"Minerva." He forced all of his disapproval into his voice and hoped that he would be able to head this off before things got too far out of his control and his well laid plans began to show cracks.

He pointedly ignored the fact that Quirrill had already cracked his plans more than he could repair.

"This is unnecessary and I will not implement unnecessary changes. This is the most respected school of magic in the world, changes will not be mad."

The two stared at each other across the oak table that had stood in the headmaster's office since Godric Gryffindor first took the position, magic subtly playing against each others, until Minerva slowly stood up, straightening her tartan robes and glaring down at him.

"You've made a mistake, Albus, one I will not forget." With affronted, righteous dignity, the witch turned and walked slowly from the office, the absence of her magic in the room causing the door to slam shut behind her as she left, and Albus could only stare.

Had he just made a mistake? He had relied on Minerva's support and unwavering assistance through the decades, surely it wasn't too much to comply with what she was asking? He reached over with a wrinkled hand, flipping the folder open and looking, for the first time, at the changes his Deputy had suggested, his brow furrowing.

'Ridiculous' he snorted. Creating a portal to the classroom floors from the Gryffindor common room, replacing architecture and magical formulas that had been in place for over a thousand years, just to accommodate one student. "Absolutely ridiculous." Even with who the student was, it was not going to happen.

He had tradition to uphold after all, it was the most important part of being Headmaster, keeping the traditions and history of their greatest institution alive for the following generations.

A chirping sound penetrated his thoughts, and he turned in his chair, staring over at the dusty bird cage in the far corner of the room, the silver canary twisting its head and chirping, ever louder.

Dumbledore's eyes widened and he stood up in a rush, his golden robes with red stars flying out in odd directions as he ran for the nearest apparition point, down the winding staircase and past the gargoyle that leaped out of his way as he headed towards the doors to Hogwarts.

If he didn't hurry, this whole confrontation would have been for naught.

Harry Potter could not leave Privet Drive, or everything was ruined.

"Mr. Dursley, I will ask you again. Where is the child?" Zechs had asked the same question in at least four different ways over the last hour, and had yet to receive a satisfactory answer. The elder Mr. Dursley kept deflecting the question, with bluster and threats of calling a lawyer and having them both sued.

Zechs was about to lose his patience, and do something that he would eventually regret.

Or not, it would still be a black mark on his record, that he really didn't want to have to deal with. Une would glare at him, and it would take all of his might to keep from cowering.

"What child, Agent Wind? The boy you saw earlier was one of the neighbor boys, his mother sends him over to us to keep him out of trouble. I sent him home, you have nothing to ask him." Zechs just raised an eyebrow at the man, fighting to keep from groaning.

That had to be the worst explanation he'd ever heard, and he had heard a lot over the years.

"I'm going to look around." Wufei stood up and leaned over him, slipping easily into the sweeper dialect all of the pilots made a point of using. Zechs nodded, keeping his eyes peeled on the two adults and the one child across from him. They either didn't notice the other man leaving, heading towards the kitchen where Zechs had last seen the boy heading, or knew that they had no legal right to stop him. The search warrant, issued by a Preventer's judge, gave them jurisdiction to do whatever they deemed necessary in their pursuit of justice, along with suspending the suspects rights, until their culpability could be established or discredited.

You had to admire the system at times like this.

Wufei stepped into the kitchen and stared around the room with a pilot's eye for detail, considering and discarding places you could hide a child is as bad of shape as Zechs had explained. The sink cupboard was too small, and most likely too cluttered to stick a child in. The pantry was opened and just as quickly closed, the mountain of junk food threatening to bury him.

He eyed the backdoor and considered. It was possible that Vernon Dursley had managed to send the child outside, without Zechs noticing, under the pretense of an argument or movement. Zechs was skilled, there was no doubt, but he didn't have the senses that the former Gundam Pilots had honed since they were children, it was entirely possible he had missed the sound of the door opening and closing, focused as he was on Petunia Dursley.

It was worth a shot. Wufei unclasped his radio from his belt, and with a glance at his watch, clicked over to a new channel.

"Yuy." There was a moment of crackling silence before Heero's voice came across the line, monotone as always. All of the pilots would have heart attacks if the Perfect Soldier ever showed emotion during a mission.

And this was certainly a mission

"I'm going into the backyard. Meet me there, I may need backup"

Witnesses is more like it, but he didn't have to say it for his meaning to be firmly passed across.

"Rodger that." The radio clicked off, turning to just static, and Wufei pushed open the backdoor, heading out into a neatly groomed, blooming paradise of house plants. He rolled his eyes in disgust at the neatly ordered rows of plants, the flower beds edged with identically cut stones, and searched for hiding spots, waiting for his partner to make his way to the backyard.

He didn't have to wait long, Heero silently jumping down from the top of the fence and landing lightly, striding over towards him without missing a beat.

The two pilots stood side by side and examined the backyard, discarding every possible hiding place until their eyes landed on the dilapidated shed in the corner of the yard, the hinges of the door barely holding it in place. Heero's gun cleared its holster with a whisper of sound, and he stepped towards the building, Wufei a few steps behind him.

It was unlikely that there was anything but a scared child waiting on them, but if there was one thing they had learned over the years, it never, ever hurt to be cautious.

A nod, and Wufei stepped up smoothly, pulling the door open and stepping back without hesitation, his breath hitching in a gasp of shock at what the light revealed.

This...was intolerable.

The little boy was curled up in a corner of the shed, next to a broken down lawnmower, covered in filth from the dirty ground. His head was buried in his knees, just a mop of black hair showing. He was subtly trembling, tightening his arms around his legs to the point that Wufei was worried he would cause pain to himself. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Wufei stepped forward into the building, trusting his partner to watch his back from any attacks, however unlikely, and knelt down beside the child, reaching out a steady hand and placing it on his back.

He forced himself to hold still and not move his hand even as the child flinched away from him, waiting until the little boy's head lifted up, revealing an equally dirty face covered in dust from the shed. By looking at his size, Wufei instinctively put him at seven or eight, but knew by the file that had been compiled on him that he was eleven, going on twelve.

An extremely small eleven.

"What happened to his eyes?" Heero's voice was close, the monotone never breaking, but Wufei had known the other pilot a long time, and could hear the anger that underlay those simple words, but could only shrug.

There had been nothing in the file that indicated the child was blind, though it was very obvious by the gray blindfold stretched across his eyes, a blindfold crudely made, too large for the small face, making him look smaller and younger than even his size did.

Wufei shrugged and moved his hand towards the blindfold, making shushing sounds when the boy gave a small sound of fright. Keeping your voice calm and soft was the best way to keep a child calm, no matter the situation. He'd learned that over the years, especially from the few precious months he'd had with his own child, and he drew on every bit of experience he had to deal with this.

He made to move the blindfold back, wanting to see the eyes and what type of damage there was, when the little boy's hand reached up and wrapped shakily around his wrist, tugging frantically until Wufei gave in and moved his hand away from the blindfold, shushing the boy gently.

"What is wrong, xiăo zi?" His first language rolled of his tongue as it usually did when he was dealing with children, and the little boy cocked his head, focusing on the strange words that he didn't know, giving him something to focus on other than the fear. "We're Preventers, you can trust us."

The boy shook his head wildly, the blindfold slipping but never quite falling off.

"Please don't take it off. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia don't like my eyes. They scare Dudley, too." His voice was young, but Wufei could hear the intelligence behind it. Heero scoffed behind them, his gun sliding into his holster with a audible swish of leather, and knelt down beside Wufei, moving his hand to join the other man's on the boy's shoulders, ignoring the flinch as if it had never happened.

"Your family, are idiots."

Heero reached up and yanked off the blindfold in one quick motion, revealing eyes that stabbed Wufei in the heart.

This little boy with his Hisashi's eyes would not go unavenged, and that was a promise.

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A/N: Right so any mistakes we apologize for, we are looking it over but sometimes we miss things. Again please review and no flames; they really tend to kill off muse's…and plunnies. Hope everyone enjoyed.

Serenity Rayne and Slytherin-Mafia


	5. Chapter 5

**AN-Slytherinmafia here. This chapter is yet another one of mine, Serenity Rayne will be writing the next two, this one just wouldn't leave me alone. I hope you all enjoy it, and thank you for all of the awesome reviews, we love hearing from our readers! **

**A few points that we'd like to address: To those of you asking why Hisashi wasn't given a Chinese name, instead a Japanese one, that will be answered later in the story. It is an integral part of Wufei's past, and will be revealed in time when it comes into play. No worries, we are aware of the distrust and hatred between the two cultures, and so we did not choose the name lightly. Just be patient, all will be revealed. **

**Secondly, Harry is indeed blind. The blindfold was taken off by Harry before he answered the door in chapter two, and it was put back on when Vernon sent him out back, Vernon being uncomfortable with Harry's eyes. As to the how's and whys of the blinding those, again, will be explained as they become relevant in the plot. **

_**Italics **_**indicate a different language being spoken**

**Xiao Zi-Little Boy, the closest translation I could find. I apologize if it isn't correct.**

**Now, enjoy Chapter Five **

**Disclaimer-Nothing is ours, no copyright infringement is intended**

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Chapter Five

Dumbledore was in a hurry, and in hindsight, he would admit to himself that that was where he made his first mistake. He didn't stop to consider the ramifications of his actions, didn't stop to consider that maybe there was something else going on besides his irrational thought that his 'caged bird' was fleeing the coop. Harry was more than a pawn, and deep down Albus knew that, but he also knew that Harry James Potter was the best chance at survival that the Wizarding World had, and Albus had a greater loyalty, a greater Duty to the community as a whole, than a loyalty to one little orphaned boy.

It was for the Greater Good, no matter how much of a bitter taste that phrase left in the back of his throat.

It was for the Greater Good.

His Second mistake, and probably the most deadly mistake, was underestimating the situation when he arrived, and forgetting his own vows to never treat Muggles as any less capable than Wizards.

Wufei Chang would drive that message home with a ferocity that Albus Dumbledore would never witness again, and would never forget.

* * *

"Make sure you process them correctly, we don't want any mistakes or technicalities." Zechs gave the junior agent taking the cuffed Petunia Dursley towards the door a cool stare, causing the young woman to blush faintly and nod, her red hair bobbing around her head like a halo. It was well known in the agency, at least the English branch that this particular agent was sloppy in her work, and they couldn't afford any mix-ups or mistakes in the process. Especially not in this case.

"Yes Sir. Of Course Sir." She tucked herself closer to Petunia Dursley, and Zechs turned away, meeting Vernon Dursleys eyes square on. The Fat man, and there was really no other way to describe him than the vulgar term, was sitting sullenly in his kitchen chair, handcuffed hands held on the table in front of himself. His eyes hadn't left Zech's form since the Preventer agents stormed his home, clearly blaming the blond for the troubles that were befalling his family, and not his own actions over the past few years.

Zechs didn't care. Denial wouldn't help the man now, and it was going to be his pleasure to watch him fall.

"Mr. Dursley." Quatre sat down in front of the man, his hard CEO face on, and folded his hands on top of the small notebook he carried everywhere with him, a tape recorder within easy reach. It wasn't often that the Winner Heir worked with the Preventers, especially on cases such as these, but Wufei's near obsession with the situation had convinced all of the former pilots to lend their particular skills to the case, within moments of Wufei getting the call. They'd all arrived together, Trowa taking the task of questioning the neighbors, while Duo and Quatre handled the inside. There was no denying that Quatre was the best at coaxing a confession out of a suspect before they even realized they were confessing.

That baby face came in handy for more than getting millions out of competing companies that were too brave to bow down when WEI took an interest in a project.

"Mr. Dursley. I'm sure you know who I am." It wasn't a question, and by the dazed look in Dursleys eyes, he did know. "Now, I can make this whole affair a lot easier on you, if you just cooperate." Quatre opened his notebook and the manila folder that Duo passed him on one of his circles of the room, exercising his energy in the only way that he knew how, pacing in ever constricting circles. Zechs wasn't sure if it was the pacing or being on the other side of the table from Quatre Raberba Winner that caused the beads of sweet to fall down Dursleys extensive forehead.

"When did you take possession of your nephew, one Harry James Potter? I have no official guardianship papers in his file." Vernon cleared his throat, glancing around the room from one agent to another to keep from looking at the blond. He didn't answer, but Quatre did not let that stop him. "Maybe an easier question then. How old is Harry, Mr. Dursley?"

The subtle dig at the whale's intelligence was not missed, and Vernon spluttered in outrage, his face slowly turning puce in a display that Zechs had become all too familiar with over the last hour. It seemed to be the man's only defense mechanism.

"The Boy is eleven, twelve next month." Vernon's mustache quivered as he spat the answer across the table, sensing that any delaying tactic would not help his case any. Quatre smiled softly, jotting a note down, confirming the information they had.

"Thank you, Vernon. Now, that would put Harry's birthday when?"

On and on it went until all the information they needed to confirm the identity of the little boy found in the house without question, other than the obligatory DNA test once he reached Preventer's HQ, was recorded and the case file fully started. Vernon had relaxed during the questioning, coming to the rather false conclusion that they were not actually going to charge him with a crime, going so far as to try and make jokes when he answered.

He was completely blindsided when Quatre introduced his newest line of questioning, the questions he'd brought his tape recorder for.

"When did you first start abusing your nephew, Vernon?" Quatre's voice was ice cold, and Zechs would have sworn that the temperature of the room dropped four degrees from the frigid tone alone. Vernon's eyes widened, his face rapidly purpling and just as rapidly paling as the blood drained away.

"I don't…I never….this is an outrage! I demand an explanation for these baseless accusations!" Vernon was afraid, Zechs could all but smell it in the air like a hound scenting prey, and knew that the others could too, despite the man's blustering.

Quatre stayed calm, showing none of the rage that he was feeling on the inside, letting Vernon's bluster and denials flow over him. He merely pulled photos out, one by one, photos that the pilots had spent the last three hours tracking down with the help of the Hackers division of the Preventers, buried deeply in the Saint Mary of the Cross Hospital in London, and laid them flat on the table side by side. They were grainy, black and white printouts of copied pictures. Probably copies of copied pictures, if they were going to be honest.

Vernon grew quieter and quieter as the pictures were laid in front of him, a Harry Potter that could have been no more than four with various injuries, most of his limbs wrapped in white gauze to hold them still. Even in the pictures, the look of abject misery and betrayal on his face was heart breaking, and Zechs clenched his fist. This investigation had spun so far out of his control that he hadn't even had a chance to see the pictures before now, didn't even know there WERE pictures, and his emotions were running higher and hotter than he would like. He was supposed to remain calm at all times, first his mother's lessons and then Treize's, telling him that to lose his composure and calm was to let the other side win.

Even during the war, it had never been this difficult to hold onto said calm.

Wufei must be rubbing off on him more than he thought.

"What…what are these?" Vernon reached out and slowly put a hand on the pictures, his face blanching as he saw what he had done. There was no concrete proof, at the moment, of which Dursley had carried out the deed but Zechs never ignored his intuition, and his intuition was screaming that the elder Dursley was guiltier than Duke Dermail could ever have been.

"These, Mr. Dursley, show your handiwork." Quatre reached out and tapped the first picture, the farthest to his left. Vernon's eyes followed it, blanching. "Four cracked ribs, a broken cheekbone, and a hair line fracture in the left side of his skull."

Every word landed like a blow, Vernon's body flinching back like he could avoid them, but Quatre wouldn't let him. "And you will answer for each and every blow. Now." His blue eyes skewered the fat man, who began to shake his head back and forth rapidly. He was muttering under his breath, his eyes wild and sweat pouring down his face.

"I never did that. It wasn't me. I don't like the Freak, and his freakishness, but I didn't do that. I never did that. No No NO NO!" Vernon shoved back from the table and tried to overturn it, only the handcuffs keeping him from succeeding. The kitchen erupted into chaos, agents running to restrain Vernon while Quatre leaped back from the table, his hand going for his gun, pulling it smoothly and staring down the barrel.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that he would shoot, and shoot to kill, and even Vernon knew it, stopping his frenzied movements with a squeal of fear.

It came as a surprise to everyone when there was a knock on the now closed kitchen door, and an elderly gentleman in garish clothes and a Santa Claus beard stepped in without waiting.

"Excuse me, may I ask what the trouble is?"

"_We need to get him back. He needs to be transported to Headquarters, or at least social services." _Heero's voice was disgruntled, and Wufei had to stifle his chuckles. They'd been sitting in the dirt of the shed for the past two hours, since Quatre and Duo had radioed in that the first part of Vernon Dursleys interrogation was going to take place in the house, due to some...previously unknown information that one of Duo's spies had managed to dig up.

In those two hours, one Harry James Potter had planted himself in Wing Zero's pilot's lap, and refused to budge, burying his head in the pilots shoulder and resisting any attempt to move him. It was odd, to Wufei, that such an obviously abused child was instigating that much contact, but he wasn't going to try and dissuade him.

The fact that he could stand that much contact, spoke to his ability to recover, and that was something Wufei would thank the gods for every day. He saw children, less abused than this little boy, unable to recover, despite the best therapy the state could provide, and it killed him a little bit more every time.

"_I don't think that is wise, 01. Do you really want to expose him to that? After everything he's already been through? I think we should stay right where we are." _There was a snicker to his voice that he couldn't quite hide, and Heero caught it clearly, sending him a dark look with the promise of future pain on the training floor. Wufei just shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning back against the metal walls surrounding them, studying the pair. "_But, we do need to get him talking. The sooner we do, the better his testimony will go." _

Heero nodded once, and moved quickly, turning the little boy around in his lap fast enough that he didn't have time to react and protest.

Wufei just glared, but scooted forward.

"Harry?" The little boy tried to orientate himself towards the voice, his head turning almost wildly, before Wufei reached out a hand and touched his knee gently, giving him a point of reference. "Harry, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Harry winced, but nodded slowly, his green eyes cutting into Wufei much like Hisashi's always had, and the Chinese Pilot had to clench his hand into a fist to keep from screaming in rage. How dare someone hurt an innocent child so badly that he was no longer able to see, and couldn't trust the adults around him to take care of him.

"No...No sir." Wufei sighed at the fear he heard in Harry's voice, but made himself push on. It would be less traumatizing from the child to do this here, away from all the prying eyes, than it would be to do it in HQ, where a team of people would be waiting to throw questions at him like vultures. Wufei pulled out his tape recorder, making a face at the pre colony technology that was now required for every agent during investigations, when it was revealed that because the tech was so ancient, it was almost impossible to tamper with and destroy the evidence.

Unless you got it too close to a magnet, but that was another Maxwell story he didn't feel like getting into.

"Thank you Harry." He clicked the recorder on, waiting for the tape to roll over, and spoke into it, giving Heero a glare when the Wing Pilot rolled his eyes. Heero, more than any of them, hated the things. "Agent 05, Preventers Legal Division. First Interview with minor Harry James Potter. The Time is..." He glanced at Heero, who rolled his eyes but gave him the information he needed. "1650 on Tuesday June 21, AC206. Agent 01 is witnessing the interview." He smiled at Harry, even though the boy couldn't see it. "Do you have any questions before we get started?"

He was going to give as much control as he could to the boy, however much it was a day late and a dollar short. There was nothing saying he couldn't start helping the boy heal, now.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry nodded slowly and reached out, feeling for something. Wufei, in a moment of insight, held out the recorder and let the boy take it, guiding his fingers away from the buttons subtly.

"What is this?" It was a silly question, but Wufei answered it. He knew a stalling tactic when he heard one; he just had to be a little more subtle moving past this one than he normally was.

"It's a tape recorder, so we can hear your testimony later." A short and simple answer, but it was enough to satisfy a child, for now anyway.

"Why do you need my test...testimony?" It was nerves, rather than stupidity that made him stumble over the words, Wufei had seen nothing in his examination of the boy's past and education that said he was less than intelligent, despite his poor scores. It was obviously a ploy to avoid getting in trouble at home, even the teachers notes on his work inferred that he was working below his potential.

"Harry," this was going to be the hard part, explaining to the boy that how the Dursleys treated him was totally wrong, utterly unacceptable; "The Dursleys are going to pay for how they treated you."

Harry cocked his head to the side, slowly putting the recorder down on Heero's knee. He seemed confused, as if he didn't know exactly what Wufei was talking about.

"What do you mean? They didn't do anything?" Wufei blinked rapidly, resisting the urge to smack his head against the shed. It was one thing, to be in denial that the way you were treated was wrong. It was another thing all together to be in denial that anything that had ever happened.

There was something else going on here, and Wufei was going to find out what it was if it was the last thing he ever did.

"Harry," it was time to try a different tactic, "Have you ever been to the hospital? Ever broken an arm falling down stairs or anything like that?" It was the oldest excuse in the book for domestic abuse of any kind, and it was sadly still the most popular excuse.

Harry shook his head, his forehead wrinkling over his eyes in an endearing way, and frowned.

"No. I fell off my bro...I fell playing soccer at school, but I didn't break anything. I've never been to hospital."

Wufei glanced over Harry's head, meeting Heero's wide eyes, before blinking in shock as Heero stood up in one smooth motion and sat Harry on Wufei's lap without so much as a by-your-leave.

The effect was immediate, Harry began struggling wildly to get up, and Wufei had to hold onto him tighter than he wanted to to keep him from hurting himself, until the boy dissolved into sobs, leaving Wufei confused.

This...was odd. No one, especially not a child, had ever taken to Heero in such a manner, especially not an abused child.

Just what the hell was going was going on here?

"Harry it's okay, calm down, just calm down. You're not in trouble, xiăo zi." he repeated it over and over again, hoping that something got through to him, until Heero stomped back into the shed, such a look of intense rage on his face that Wufei bolted to his feet and shoved Harry behind him, pushing himself into a fighting position.

He didn't know what happened to push Heero into a homicidal rage, but he was not going to take that out on this little boy.

"Yuy, calm down. Remember your mission."

Heero just growled and clenched his fists, before spitting words out between clenched teeth.

"Dursley has gotten violent; Quatre was interviewing him at the time. They need us inside." With that he turned around and ran full pelt for the house, covering the distance in a space of four seconds, crashing through the door. Wufei took a second to kneel down and tell Harry to stay where he was, before he chased after the other pilot, hoping that he wasn't too late to keep Heero from pulling his gun and slaughtering everyone who stood between Quatre and himself.

As he crashed through the door, further splintering it from Heero's entrance, he was faced with utter pandemonium.

Vernon Dursley was on the floor, his hands still handcuffed to bits of the table that still survived, blood spurting from his nose while he moaned pitifully. Wufei dismissed him, knowing that no matter how much they may hate him the agents in the room would take care of him, at least enough that he would survive.

'Heero, calm down. I'm alright." Quatre was standing at Heero's back, a look of frustration on his face as he tried to move past, but was unable to. "Heero!"

Wufei dismissed them as well, knowing that as long as there was not an immediate threat to Quatre's life, he would keep himself under control...to a point anyway.

No, Wufei's immediate concern were the two standing in the middle of the living room, almost nose to nose. They weren't screaming, but Wufei could tell by the dark glare on his husbands face that it was a close thing. Whoever this old man was, he was about to step into more trouble that he could deal with.

"I ask you again, Sir. Just who in the name of all that's Holy, are you?" Wufei came up behind him and studied the man his husband was rowing with, eyes narrowing as he took him in.

A man this old should have better sense, than to dress like this, and to barge into the scene of a Preventer's investigation.

"As I said before, my name is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and I am the Headmaster of young Harry's school. I am also the executor of his parents will."

Zechs growled shaking his head and sending his hair flying around him in frustration.

"And I will tell you again, Mr. Dumbledore." Wufei heard a snort from the corner, and shot Duo an amused look, keeping one ear on the conversation. He was glad that the circus had been in town, for once, right when they were needed. It was harder to get in touch with 02 and 03 than it was to get in touch with Hitler. He meant that with the up most sarcasm. "No Such man exists! Harry Potter has not been registered at any, ESUN certified school since he ended year three! No Will for the Potters was ever registered or read either! Now, who are you, before I have you arrested!"

There was a moment of silence, as everyone waited to see exactly what was going to happen, but the silence and semi feeling of peace didn't last.

"I had hoped that I would be able to keep this from escalating, and make you see reason, but apparently the Muggle world is not quite ready for that." The man calling himself Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily, seemingly unconcerned that there were twelve agents in close range carrying guns, and reached into his sleeve, pulling out a thin piece of wood and pointing it at Zechs' face.

Wufei didn't think, didn't give himself time to question if what he was doing was right, or if there was even a threat, he just pulled his gun and fired before anyone else could react.

He was a Gundam Pilot, he would always be a Gundam Pilot, no matter what veneer he tried to slap on top of that, and his fingers knew what to do.

Albus Dumbledore's eyes widened and he spun on his heel, throwing off the line of the bullet, causing it to slam into his shoulder rather than between his eyes, and he gripped it with a gasp of pain.

And disappeared.

"What...the FUCK!" Count on Duo to sum everything up.

* * *

"Fawkes, everything is falling apart." Dumbledore sat down heavily in his chair, rolling his wrapped shoulder with a grimace of pain, turning to look at his familiar, who gave a coo and flew over to land on his shoulder, dripping a few tears on the wound, until there was no pain left.

There were some definite perks to having the loyalty of a Phoenix, and that was certainly one of them.

"If they take Harry away from his Aunt, the blood wards become useless, and he will be open to attack! I cannot allow that...but there's no way to stop it. If the Muggle World was still at war, there might be, but now? They are too well organized." None of the portraits answered him, the previous headmasters and headmistresses of the school well used to his tendency to talk to himself when working out a problem, but Fawkes was not one to allow it, and took flight with a screech, flying over to the bloody pile of robes Albus had shed when he appeared in his office and called for Poppy, picking at the pocket with his beak, his flames singeing the already ruined robes, until he pulled out a small rock with intricate ruins cut into it, the Potter crest standing out in stark relief against the gray.

Wait, Gray? Dumbledore stood up and moved towards his familiar faster than most his age would be able to, and snatched the stone out of his beak, turning it over and over in his hands, looking for any signs of why it would have changed to this particular color.

Petunia Dursley, as far as he'd been able to ascertain when he apparated into the coat closet of Number Four; the only place where he'd left himself an opening in the Wards, had already been escorted off the property by other officers, along with her son. The stone would not have been around her enough to pick up that color.

And besides, it would only turn gray if there was a closer relationship between Harry and the blood relative, than an Aunt would provide. Dumbledore dropped into the chair again, without taking his eyes off the stone, and began to think, and to plot.

No matter what the stone indicated, no matter that there might be someone more suited to taking Harry, he did not have the luxury of thinking about Harry in front of the Wizarding World.

Harry Potter could NOT leave Privet Drive.

* * *

**A/N: Well Serenity Rayne here! Hope you all like Slytherin-Mafia's newest chapter, it wouldn't leave her alone! Lol. I found it most amusing…sadly…now she gets to watch me suffer as I work on the next two chapters while working on the rework of War's Child…and since I have no idea where to go with this story from where she left off…I'd say I'm a bit screwed.**

**Lol. I'll do my best though; and spend hours upon hours picking Slytherins brains for ideas…just like I'm doing now! *grins* So read and review and let us know what you think!**


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